


The Little Things

by betawho



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-06
Updated: 2015-03-06
Packaged: 2018-03-16 15:17:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3493160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/betawho/pseuds/betawho
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor and River's lives are filled with little moments, those small, unremarkable things that make their screwed up life worth living.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Little Things

River woke to the feel of a long form slipping into the prison bed behind her. 

If it was one of the guards trying something she was going to be up in front of the review board again, for murder. It had been a long time since anyone had tried this. She didn’t tense up, she was too well trained an assassin for that. 

She felt long arms slip around her waist, and suddenly recognized the fresh, piney clean, male scent of him. 

“Living dangerously, aren’t you Sweetie?” she asked, without moving. 

“Go back to sleep, River. It’s okay, I just needed to hold you for a bit.” His voice was older and more serious than she’d heard it in a while. She easily placed him as later in his timestream, and happily repositioned her head on his arm as she felt his body slip up behind her, supporting her, his long legs nudging up companionably behind her knees. 

She didn’t open her eyes, she did like snuggling with him, even if it was in her prison cot. “You’re still wearing your boots, Sweetie,” she pointed out. 

“Oops! Sorry,” he jackknifed up, totally disarranging her, yanking his arm from under her head and contorting over to reach his boots. The blanket slipped off her, exposing her shoulders to the prison chill as he jerked at his shoelaces behind her. 

She rolled over and stared up at him, disgruntled, and adoring. He was concentrating fiercely on his shoes, still completely clothed in tweed and bow tie. His face was older, more defined. She did love his face, even when he was scowling like that. He was definitely a cheese and wine man, becoming better and more refined with age, but never losing his ineffable flavor. He fumbled one boot over the side of the bed, it cartwheeled out of his grip and landed with a thud. The other followed in an annoyed toe shove, his socks half pulled off with the effort. 

She stifled a grin. 

He went to lay back down beside her. She stopped him with a firm hand on his chest, and quickly divested him of his scratchy tweed. She dropped the jacket over the edge of the bed, then deftly slid loose his bow tie. “You’ll strangle wearing this to bed,” she pointed out, not for the first time.

He just looked down at her patiently, his eyes roaming over her face, one hand coming up to smooth her tumbled hair. 

She unbuttoned his top button, and placed a small kiss on his Adam’s apple, she did love his beautiful long neck. She slid her arms around him, and tangled her legs with his. He pulled the blanket up over both of them, careful to tuck it around her cold shoulders. 

He laid his cheek on her hair, wrapped his arms around her and snugged her into his warmth. 

She peered over his shoulder, the Tardis light pulsed quietly beyond her cell bars, extending a pico-timefield that would hide them from guards and sensors. No matter how long they spent, virtually no time would expend for anyone beyond the field. 

She smiled sleepily and slipped a hand up between his hearts. He held her a little bit closer. 

Sometimes it was nice to be time travelers.

—

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